There is one bird I seldom hear till June, and that is the

cuckoo. Sometimes the last days of May bring him, but oftener it

is June before I hear his note. The cuckoo is the true recluse

among our birds. I doubt if there is any joy in his soul.

"Rain-crow," he is called in some parts of the country. His call

is supposed to bode rain. Why do other birds, the robin for

instance, often make war upon the cuckoo, chasing it from the

vicinity of their nests? There seems to be something about the

cuckoo that makes its position among the birds rather anomalous.

Is it at times a parasitical bird, dropping its eggs into other

birds' nests? Or is there some suggestion of the hawk about our

species as well as about the European? I do not know. I only know

that it seems to be regarded with a suspicious eye by other

birds, and that it wanders about at night in a way that no

respectable bird should. The birds that come in March, as the

bluebird, the robin, the song sparrow, the starling, build in

April; the April birds, such as the brown thrasher, the barn

swallow, the chewink, the water-thrush, the oven-bird, the

chippy, the high-hole, the meadowlark, build in May, while the

May birds, the kingbird, the wood thrush, the oriole, the orchard

starling, and the warblers, build in June. The April nests are

exposed to the most dangers: the storms, the crows, the

squirrels, are all liable to cut them off. The midsummer nests,

like that of the goldfinch and the waxwing, or cedar-bird, are

the safest of all.

In March the door of the seasons first stands ajar a little; in

April it is opened much wider; in May the windows go up also; and

in June the walls are fairly taken down and the genial currents

have free play everywhere. The event of March in the country is

the first good sap day, when the maples thrill with the kindling

warmth; the event of April is the new furrow and the first

seeding;--how ruddy and warm the soil looks just opened to the

sun!--the event of May is the week of orchard bloom; with what

sweet, pensive gladness one walks beneath the pink-white masses,

while long, long thoughts descend upon him! See the impetuous

orioles chase one another amid the branches, shaking down the

fragrant snow. Here the rose-breasted grosbeak is in the blooming

cherry tree, snipping off the blossoms with that heavy beak of

his--a spot of crimson and black half hidden in masses of white

petals. This orchard bloom travels like a wave. In March it is in

the Carolinas; by the middle of April its crest has reached the

Potomac; a week or ten days later it is in New Jersey; then in

May it sweeps through New York and New England; and early in June

it is breaking upon the orchards in Canada. Finally, the event of

June is the fields ruddy with clover and milk-white with daisies.

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:

The "oe" ligature is represented as [oe].

Title page: Changed typo "Cambridg" to "Cambridge."

Table of Contents/Chapter VIII: Retained punctuation error in

chapter title.

Page 18: Added missing period to sentence: "The bear was fussing

... to burying it."

Page 30: Changed typo "sudddenly" to "suddenly."

Pages 31, 79, 95: Retained inconsistent spellings of

highhole/high-hole.

Pages 32 & 58: Retained inconsistent spellings of

treetops/tree-tops.

Page 38: Changed single quote to double quote in sentence: "Here,

Jim, you do this ... thing through".

Chapter XII: Changed typo "IIX" to "XII."

The Wit of a Duck and Other Papers · 第 5 / 5 段